


I don't know you but I think we should kiss

by rydia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Mild Sexual Content, Mistletoe shenanigans, Modern AU, background Dorovain and Ingrid/Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia
Summary: “Isn’t that your mystery lady?” Sylvain asks, sounding smug.A month ago, Felix met an incredible woman at a wedding. Unfortunately, she left before he could even get her name.He finds her again two weeks before Yuletide, at an event trying to break Fódlan's record for the most couple kissing under the mistletoe.(Written for Becks for the Felileth server secret santa, using the mistletoe prompt!)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64
Collections: Felileth Secret Santa 2020





	I don't know you but I think we should kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mahbecks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/gifts).



> This is a gift for [becks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/), as part of the Felileth server secret santa, which was a blast to take part in. Happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy! (She writes an excellent Felileth, so if you haven't read her fics, I recommend you do so immediately.)
> 
> Also, thank you to [Vi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyverntail/) for reading over this, and to the Felileth server in general for being a great group of people. 💕 
> 
> Merry Felilethmas!!

“Why is it so busy?”

Felix knows the answer to his biting question even as he’s asking it. But he still wants to complain. There’s so many _people_ , many of whom have absolutely no concept of personal _space_.

By his side, Sylvain laughs lightly. “It’s Fhirdiad two weeks before Yuletide, what did you expect?” He pauses before gently nudging Felix down one of the side streets, a little out of the heave of the crowd. “It does seem busier than usual, though.”

“And why have you left it so late to do your present shopping?” Felix grumbles, adjusting the scarf around his neck. Not only does it seem like every single person in Faerghus is out shopping, but it’s also so cold. The sky looks to be full of snow.

“It’s just one present. Dimitri is so hard to buy for.” Sylvain winks. “But don’t worry, I already have yours.”

“You’d better,” Felix replies shortly. “And Dimitri is easy to buy for. He appreciates _anything_.” You could buy the man the cheapest, tackiest trinket and he’d treasure it simply for being a gift from a friend.

“I know, I know, but that makes me want to get him something really nice, you know? What did you get him?”

“A sword.”

“…Didn’t you get Glenn a sword, too?”

Felix stops abruptly, causing a woman to almost bump into him. He narrows his eyes at Sylvain. “What’s your point?”

“Did you get me a sword?” Sylvain can’t hide his amusement.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Swords are wasted on you.”

Sylvain laughs outright at that as they continue walking, arriving at the entrance to one of the parks that dot the city. “Hey,” he says, nudging Felix, “wanna talk a walk through the park? I hear the decorations are nice and I’ll get you a hot drink and a snack.”

Despite the fact that Sylvain sounds like he’s trying to appease a child and not a grown man, Felix acquiesces, because he is a little hungry. And he hopes that there will be less people in the park in the middle of winter.

Unfortunately, he’s quickly proven wrong – there’s just as many people here as there are out on the streets.

At least Sylvain is right about the decorations; the park is lit up with lights that are colourful and twinkly and even Felix can admit – to himself – that they’re pretty. He admires them while Sylvain goes to get them drinks and food from one of the stalls at the market in the centre of the park, leaving Felix a little off the path to avoid the worst of the crowds, near one of the open braziers that gives out pleasant heat and makes the wait more comfortable.

There he waits.

And waits.

And gets increasingly more and more irritated.

Scowling, Felix pushes himself back into the tide of people, searching for that familiar mop of red hair. It doesn’t take him long, because Sylvain always manages to stand out, and to his utter lack of surprise he finds his friend chatting to a woman near a part of the park that looks like it’s sectioned off.

As Felix sidles up to Sylvain’s side, the woman gives him a wide smile.

“Will this be your partner?”

Sylvain’s arm comes around his shoulder. Felix immediately tries to squirm away. “This is him,” Sylvain says cheerfully.

“Wonderful!” the woman exclaims. “Here is your receipt–“ she hands Sylvain a slip of paper and then gestures to her left ”–and if you go over to that stall they’ll give you your mistletoe, and then you can enter the area and wait for the announcement. It shouldn’t be too long now!” With a final smile, the woman leaves them and Felix finally shrugs off Sylvain’s arm.

“What have you _done_?” Even before that woman had mentioned mistletoe, Felix’s _Sylvain is up to no good_ alarm had been blaring.

“I may have signed us up for something.” Sylvain has that wheedling tone of voice that means he’s done something he knows Felix will argue about.

Something that involves _mistletoe_. ”No–“

“It’s for charity!”

“I don’t care.”

“But I already paid!”

“So they have your money, we don’t have to _do_ anything.”

“They’re also attempting to break a record.”

Felix’s suspicion grows. “What record?”

Sylvain takes a deep breath. “The Fódlan record for most couples kissing under mistletoe at the same time.”

“ _No_.”

While they’ve been talking, Sylvain has steered them towards the previously mentioned stall, where people are handing out mistletoe and directing the kissers where to stand, and it’s only because there’s so many people close to them that Felix doesn’t shove Sylvain off him.

“Why not, Felix? You’ve kissed me before.”

Felix lets out a long suffering sigh. Sylvain has kissed _everyone_. When they were seventeen and Sylvain had sneaked some of his father’s whiskey out of his house, it had been Ingrid, who even now, many years later, remains mortified about about the fact that her lips had once touched Sylvain’s. Felix had been next, two years later after one gin too many. He can still remember the artificial sweetness of Sylvain’s mouth from whatever sugary monstrosity he’d been drinking, and it had made him gag.

Not a kiss to remember.

And then Dimitri – well, his shameful Sylvain kiss had occurred when he was twenty-three, which is really just embarrassing. At least Felix and Ingrid had only been silly teenagers at the time of theirs.

In fact, the only person in their friend group who hasn’t kissed Sylvain – to his knowledge – is Dedue, and Felix respects that.

“I don’t want to kiss you again,” Felix proclaims loudly, which makes Sylvain shush him.

“They won’t let us in if both people don’t want to do it.”

“Good,” Felix retorts, ”because I _don’t_ ”.

“Okay, okay, but what if I told you that you didn’t have to kiss me?”

Sylvain’s hands drop onto his shoulders, and even though Felix is giving him his best glare, it does nothing to wipe the conniving smile off his face.

“I’m not kissing a stranger either.”

“Oh no, wouldn’t expect you to. But this isn’t a stranger.” Gently, Sylvain turns Felix around and Felix, exasperated but still curious who Sylvain is talking about, lets him. _It better not be Dimitri_ , he thinks. Their friendship has remained blissfully kissless and he intends it stays that way. He knows it’s not going to be Ingrid – Sylvain wouldn’t suggest Felix kiss his sister-in-law.

Probably.

It is not Dimitri or Ingrid, Felix sees that immediately. And Sylvain doesn’t have to tell him _who_ he intends Felix should kiss because that mint green hair is instantly recognisable, even though he’s only met the woman with it once before. It had happened at Glenn and Ingrid’s wedding a little over a month ago, and while Felix didn’t know her name, she was easy to describe. But to his incredible irritation, no one, not even Glenn or Ingrid, _knew who she was_.

“Someone’s date?” Glenn had suggested with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused by the interest Felix had taken in the mysterious woman.

Felix couldn’t believe that, because who would be the idiot to have a woman like that, with a plunging neckline and a fancy necklace with a sword pendant pointing directly down to her cleavage – _who_ would leave a woman like that on her own if she were their date?

“Maybe she just crashed it,” Ingrid had suggested matter-of-factly. “Our food was really good.”

She’s not lying. It had been. Ingrid had cared more about the menu than she had about her dress.

As for that woman with the mint hair… it had been the necklace that had caught his attention first. She’d thought he was looking at her breasts – which, okay, were very nice and also in his line of sight, but not, strictly speaking, what he’d been looking at – and she’d cleared her throat theatrically at him while they’d both been waiting at the bar, and Felix had lifted his gaze to see narrowed green eyes in a pretty face looking back at him and he’d blurted out–

“Is that designed after the Sword of the Creator?”

Her face had changed then, subtly enough, but clearly pleased at the question, and she’d told him how her father had it specially made for her as a birthday gift, and how the links in the chain of the necklace were designed after the legendary whip-like sword from history.

They’d talked about swords and sword fighting then, for well over an hour, inching closer and closer to each other as they sat on stools by the bar and they both drank their whiskeys until their knees touched. Felix had wondered about reaching out to touch her hand or twirl a lock of that green hair around his fingers. He’d felt that she probably wouldn’t mind, but he’d stayed his hand, figuring he’d see where the night took them.

She was fun to talk to. They’d discovered they’d been both been learning fencing and swordplay since they were children.

Both of them had a lot to say about swords.

In the background, the band played and people danced and Felix was so glad his job as best man was over by now so he didn’t have to be pulled away from her for some duty. He was actually thinking that, for once in his life, maybe dancing wouldn’t be so bad, if he could dance with her. He’d gotten through an awkward dance earlier with Dorothea, Ingrid’s maid of honour and Sylvain’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. But dancing with this woman could be fun, and maybe, just maybe, he could get her number and see if she was as good with a sword as she sounded.

However, fate had other plans. Over the noise of the crowd and music, Felix heard the sound of a phone ringing and then his brain had stopped working for a moment because the woman turned slightly on her stool, knee brushing his again, to shift the high slit of the long skirt of her dress, revealing knee high boots and then an expanse of skin on her leg, and then her phone nestled in some kind of hostler strapped to her strong looking _thigh_.

His mouth went completely dry, and he rather desperately took a far too large gulp of whiskey, unable to drag his eyes away from the skin revealed by that dangerously high slit.

It took him a moment to register what she was saying to whoever had called her.

“Are you alright?” A pause and then her face darkened. “He’s such an asshole. Where are you?” She listened for a moment, slamming back what remained of her own drink. “I’ll be right there.”

Disappointment washed over Felix as he heard those words. She ended the call, but kept her phone in her hand as she stood up.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go, my friend needs me.” She looked truly regretful, and she shifted on her feet for a moment.

“It’s alright,” he responded, more stiffly than he liked in an effort to not show how disappointed he was, but he meant it. If her friend needed her, he could respect that. And just as he was about to ask for her number–

She glanced behind him and her brows creased up in a worried expression. “I’m really sorry,” she repeated in a rush, her eyes meeting his again briefly.

And then she was gone, picking up her leather jacket from her stool and rushing across the ballroom. Felix turned just in time to see a whirl of mint hair disappear out the door.

He’d spent the rest of the night hoping to find her again, but to no avail. She’d disappeared, and no one knew who she was. Some people recognised the description – Sylvain had noticed her, for one – but hadn’t spoken to her. At least it meant he hadn’t conjured up this woman in his head but it was little comfort when he had absolutely no way to contact her.

And now, here she is, in a park in Fhirdiad taking part in some kind of ridiculous mistletoe kissing thing.

“Isn’t that your mystery lady?” Sylvain asks, sounding smug.

“It… is,” Felix breathes out, watching with rapt attention as she turns to the side, taking in the profile of her face as she smiles at… “Is that _Dorothea_?”

“Uh–“

Felix shrugs off Sylvain’s hands and turns towards him. “Dorothea knows her?”

“She does. She a friend of Thea’s – was her date for the wedding.” Sylvain is smiling like a cat who got the cream. “So, do you want to enter the kissing field or not?”

Felix rolls his eyes at that, but then he turns back to watch his mystery woman again. She’s not wearing a dress today – instead she’s clad in dark boots, a dark jacket, and a warm looking pink scarf that matches a pink hairband. Her hair is loose like it had been at the wedding, but even though it’s partially out of her face thanks to the hairband, it’s much wilder looking now, like it’s been blown about in the winter wind.

He wonders if she’s wearing that necklace, if the metal blade of the sword is warm against her skin as it points directly down into her cleavage.

In her hands she spins a sprig of mistletoe.

With a decisive nod at Sylvain, he raises his chin. “Let’s go.”

“That’s the spirit! But, full disclosure, if mystery woman doesn’t want to kiss _you_ and Thea doesn’t want to kiss _me_ …. we’re going to end up kissing each other.”

Felix sneaks another look over at the woman and then glances back at Sylvain. Grimly, he replies, “I’ll take that risk.”

***

“Thea!” Sylvain exclaims. “What a surprise to see you here!”

Both Dorothea and her friend turn to them, and Felix ignores Dorothea completely to see the reaction of his mystery woman. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees him, mouth parting slightly. Her nose is a little red from the cold, and it’s… it’s cute; a contrast to how she’d been at the wedding, sexy in a way that had seemed specially designed to appeal to Felix in every way.

He decides he likes both looks on her.

He thinks he’d like any look on her.

“Are you stalking me, Sylvain?” Dorothea sounds distinctly unimpressed.

Felix glances over at Sylvain to find his smile has dimmed slightly, and he sighs inwardly. He doesn’t know Dorothea that well, but he knows Sylvain really likes her and he wishes they’d stop dancing around each other like fools and either get together or not. “It wasn’t planned,” he says.

Dorothea scrutinises him briefly before seeming to relent. “Oh, fine.” Her expression morphs into something more mischievous. “Say, _Felix_ , have you met Byleth?”

 _Byleth_.

Felix snaps his eyes back to the woman he now has a name for, who is still watching him. Her lips quirk upwards slightly. “We’ve met.”

Dorothea laughs. “That’s right. At Ingrid’s wedding. Felix – I hear I dragged Byleth away from you. I had a situation.”

Felix watches as Byleth’s expression shifts. Her eyes narrows as she takes in Sylvain. She looks positively dangerous.

“The situation’s name, I believe, was Sylvain,” she says in a low voice.

 _Ah_ , thinks Felix. That explains some things. Sylvain had upset Dorothea at the wedding, he knew that much although he wasn’t clear on the details, and she hadn’t been seen for the rest of the evening. Annette and Mercedes, Ingrid’s other bridesmaids, had run interference so that Ingrid didn’t find out until after the wedding. No one wanted to upset the bride, after all. Ever since then, Sylvain has been trying to get in Dorothea’s good graces again.

And Ingrid’s.

Felix looks sidelong at his friend, who appears a bit sheepish. Sylvain _hadn’t_ known that Dorothea was going to be at this mistletoe thing, did he?

“I know, I know,” Sylvain says, and Felix can see he’s genuinely contrite. “I messed up. I’d really like to make it up to you, Thea. Please?”

“And your way of making it up to me is to find me at at kissing event? Do you seriously expect me to kiss you?”

Felix flicks his eyes back to Byleth, glum at the idea that he’s possibly going to be kissing Sylvain after all. She’s looking back at him, a contemplative look on her face.

By their side, Sylvain continues his pleading and Dorothea crosses her arms and lets him.

Byleth tilts her head to the side, eyes still boring into Felix.

He raises his eyebrows. Is she suggesting…?

She nods, and swiftly turns and walks away, glancing quickly back at Felix with a small smile and another tilt of her head before she presses through the couples that have gathered.

Felix checks on Sylvain and Dorothea again. They’ve both moved closer to each other. Sylvain’s hands are on her arms, and he’s talking about how beautiful and wonderful she is. Dorothea’s arms have uncrossed and she’s allowing Sylvain into her space, and they’re both staring into each other’s eyes like no one else exists.

Felix rolls his own eyes, but can’t help but feel a bit pleased. He’s seen this happen before, and it’s very unlikely they’re going to wait until they’re told to kiss before Sylvain has his tongue stuck down Dorothea’s throat and she’s groping his ass.

So, knowing they’ll be occupied, he immediately takes off after Byleth. He’s briefly lost sight of her, but it doesn’t take him long to spot her mint hair again, off to a slightly quieter side of the event area, a little away from any other couple.

She smiles as he approaches and holds up her mistletoe.

“Seeing as we’ve lost our kissing partners, how do you feel about kissing me?” Her smile widens. “Do our part to break the Fódlan record, and all.”

Felix can’t stop the grin from spreading across his own face. “You won’t run away afterwards, will you?”

Both of her eyebrows raise. “Are you that bad of a kisser?”

His heart thunders. He’s never been that good at flirting. He doesn’t have Sylvain’s way of knowing how to talk to people. He doesn’t even have the unknowing charm that Dimitri possesses; Dimitri who remains surprised whenever someone shows an interest to him no matter how regularly it happens.

But it’s different with Byleth. He’s never found it so easy to talk to someone he doesn’t know well before.

His eyes drift to her lips, still turned up in a smile.

“You’ll be coming back for more,” he tells her.

Her smile morphs into a smirk and it makes him want to kiss her even more. “Wow, confident.”

Shrugging lightly, Felix steps closer, intending to make good on his words.

But Byleth raises a hand.

“We have to wait until we’re told to kiss,” she says matter-of-factly. “We all have to do it at the same time or else it doesn’t count for the record.”

He huffs. “How long are we expected to wait?”

“Impatient, are we?”

He debates what to say, wondering how much to reveal to her. She seems to like him, but it’s possible she hasn’t thought about him once since the wedding, while he’s been unable to get her out of his head. In the end, whether this chance has come about by coincidence or due to Sylvain prowling Dorothea’s social media, he decides to do what he can to make the most of it.

His voice is low when he tells her, “I wanted to kiss you at the wedding.”

Byleth’s mouth parts slightly, her breath hitching. Felix doesn’t miss the way her eyes drop to his lips. “I wanted you to kiss me at the wedding.”

“Damn Sylvain,” he mutters.

“Damn Sylvain, indeed,” she agrees, and steps a little closer to him. “But I don’t want to talk about him.”

He hums in agreement. “Did you know who I was, at the wedding?”

“You were the best man, of course I did. Your speech was good.”

Felix hates how he flushes at the praise. He’d been honoured and proud about Glenn asking him to be his best man rather than one of his friends, but the speech had been difficult. Not even his closest friends could guess how long he’d agonised over that five minute speech, needing it to be perfect for Glenn and Ingrid. He’d practiced it with as much zeal as he put into sword fighting, but the laughs at his jokes and applause he’d gotten from everyone at the wedding hadn’t mattered to him.

Glenn wide smile and Ingrid’s shining eyes _had_.

He’d thought their opinions on it were the only ones that counted. But Byleth’s simple words warm him just as much as they embarrass him.

“Thanks,” he replies, a little gruff.

“You’re welcome,” Byleth says, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I thought you were pretty hot already, but then you started talking to me about swords.” She shrugs. “Dorothea knows she owes me one.”

Reaching out, Byleth tugs at his scarf that’s covering part of his chin, pulling it down. Emboldened, Felix reaches out and curls his hand around her hip, and she moves even closer to him, Her chest almost brushing against him.

“So, after the wedding, if you knew who I was, and knew that Dorothea knew me…”

“Why didn’t I contact you?”

He nods, and Byleth shrugs again before resting a hand on his shoulder. “I might have, eventually. Thea did offer. But I did run away in the middle of a conversation and afterwards, I thought…” She trails off, for the first time looking a little hesitant.

“You thought what?” Felix prods.

“I thought maybe I imagined it.”

They’re still inching closer as they speak, and it would take nothing for Felix to lean in and kiss her. He knows she’d let him, mistletoe event be damned. In a whisper, he responds, “Imagined what?”

Her face is turned upwards to him, and he can feel her shaky breath across his cheek. Byleth gestures between them with her free hand, the one still holding the mistletoe. “ _This_ ,” she whispers.

Just as he’s opening his mouth to reply, a loud crackle interrupts them, quieting the murmur of voices around them. But neither Felix or Byleth look away from each other as someone begins to talk through a megaphone.

“Alright, everyone!” An annoyingly perky voice announces. “We’re ready to start the countdown! Remember to hold the mistletoe above your heads and keep kissing until you’ve been counted and verified by one of the record keepers! Most of all, have fun! Now, let’s start the countdown!”

The crowd starts counting down from ten along with the announcer, but both Felix and Byleth remain silent, looking at one another, shifting slightly as they move even further into each other’s spaces. Byleth’s tongue darts out to wet her lips and the sight of it has arousal curling in Felix’s stomach as his anticipation builds. He’s thought about kissing this woman more or less since the moment he met her.

Snow begins to fall, and he’s sure it’s gotten colder, but he can no longer feel it. He’s warm, now. In fact, Felix wishes he was wearing even less clothes so he could feel Byleth’s fingers at the back of his neck, unhindered by his collar and scarf. He wishes he could touch her and feel all that skin that had been on display at the wedding, wondering if he’d be able to feel the strength of her under the softness.

Byleth’s eyes are on his lips again.

This countdown is going too damn slow for his liking, but the second it ends and a ragged cheer goes up, he surges forward to capture her lips, clearly a little faster than Byleth is expecting because her mouth is slack against his for a brief second before she plasters herself against him and kisses him back.

Felix just about has the presence of mind to grab her hand that’s holding the mistletoe and lift it above them, their gloved hands tangling together and possibly almost crushing it between them.

But he’s beyond caring about that now, and far more interested in deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue against Byleth’s with a breathless groan as his free hand claws at her back. She tastes good, like the spicy mulled wine the market had been serving, and her lips are soft, and it doesn’t take long before she leaves Felix holding the mistletoe and sinks both her hands into his hair to hold his face to hers as she kisses him with more aggression.

She slips a thigh in-between his legs and arches up into him as she bites down on his lip, and in some distant part of Felix’s mind he reminds himself that they’re in public, that he can’t get carried away here, that he’s never been comfortable with public displays of affection like this before anyway–

But he can’t quite stop himself from rubbing against her regardless. And Byleth definitely doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way she angles herself better against him and a moan that’s probably a little too loud for their surroundings escapes her. Felix takes advantage of her distraction to nip at her bottom lip before sliding his hand down to curve around her backside.

Their tongues slide together again and Byleth is arching, almost desperately, against him. Her hands seem to be everywhere – one moment in his hair, then moving across his sides and back, and then down to his ass, encouraging him to grind against her, and then back up again, and – _fuck_ – he’s so frustrated with his gloves and the layers of clothes between them, he’s getting far too hot, he’s never been this turned on by just a kiss before–

“ _Woah_!” That perky voice from before sounds by their side, even louder than it had been through the megaphone. Felix feels a tap on his shoulder that definitely doesn’t come from Byleth.

He breaks away from her, turning to glare at who has dared to interrupt them, and snarls, “ _What_?”

A man blinks at them and takes a step back. “Look, take it down a notch, would you? We’ve counted your kiss, thank you for donating, but this is a public area and we’ve already had to ask one couple to leave because they were being inappropriate.”

Felix wouldn’t be surprised if that couple had been Sylvain and Dorothea.

He turns back to Byleth, who hasn’t moved, and their noses brush together. Her nose is still red, but it feels warm against him, and there’s a flush across her cheeks now too.

He smiles, and finally lowers the arm holding the mistletoe, completely ignoring the man who throws up his hands in annoyance and walks away. “You didn’t imagine it,” he tells her, still breathless from their kiss, referring to what she’d said before, and he sees when she understands, because a beautiful smile spreads across her face.

She stretches up to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “That’s good. Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes.” He pauses, because he’s still half hard. “Give me minute.”

In response, Byleth rocks against him, and Felix seeks out her lips only to bite down gently on her lower one. “If you want to leave, you have to stop doing that,” he murmurs against her.

She looks at him contemplatively for a moment, and then she relents, moving back slightly so there’s a sliver of space between their bodies. But she doesn’t let go of him, although she frowns at something and reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone. The expression on her face lightens as she reads something, and then she smiles.

“Dorothea and Sylvain have left,” she tells him with a laugh. “She says they were asked to leave and she’s going home with him. What I expected, really,” she finishes dryly.

In his pocket, Felix feels his own phone vibrate against his leg. He ignores it, knowing it’s Sylvain probably telling him the same thing Dorothea just told Byleth.

And anyway, he still doesn’t want to talk about their friends right now. Instead, he watches as Byleth puts her phone away and rests her hand on his shoulder again. She watches him with an expectant look, clearly not interested in dwelling on Sylvain and Dorothea either.

“So,” Felix says, a little smug. “You’re not running away.”

“Hmmm. No, the kiss wasn’t _that_ bad, I suppose.” Byleth looks up at him through her eyelashes, unable to keep the smile off her face. “But I think we should do it again, just to be sure.”

He smirks and tugs lightly at her scarf. “That can be arranged. But, tell me – are you wearing the necklace you wore at the wedding under there?”

Byleth’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the sudden question. “No,” she responds slowly. More slyly, she goes on, “Why, did you like it?”

He lightly brushes his lips against hers, relishing the way she shivers even if it’s absolutely not helping the situation in his pants. “I did.”

“Oh.” Her eyes darken. “Then I’m sorry to say that I’m not wearing it. But it’s back at my flat, with my sword collection, which I’d like to show you. I can wear it for you there.” She steps back out of his reach completely, and Felix’s hands clench at the loss, completely crushing the mistletoe and possibly ruining his glove. With a smirk, Byleth then says, “I can wear that and nothing else, if you like.”

And _that_ , Felix decides, is definitely enough of crowds and being outside for the day. Marching forward, he grabs her hand and begins leading her out of the area put aside for the mistletoe event.

When they make it back out into the main area of the park, Byleth laughs and tugs on his arm. He stops, turning to her.

Her eyes are sparkling. “You do like that idea, then?”

“I do.” His voice is rough.

“Alright.” She gestures over to the market area. “Let’s get some food, first, though.” She loops her arm through his and starts leading him towards the stalls, shooting him a wicked smile that makes him want to kiss her again. “Because we’re going to need the energy.”


End file.
